Collateral
by Klaudee
Summary: Bucky Barnes had trouble coming to terms with a few things. There were those fundamental ones. Who he was, when he was finally going to get his memories back, how to live like a normal human being. But the hardest of them being why he, the world's most terrifying assassin, let a girl laugh at him because she though he looked ridiculous on a bicycle and why wanted to laugh with her.
1. Chapter 1

A car honked at Sara as she tried to get on the other side of street as fast as possible, but a stray shoelace made her slow down in the middle of the road and she had to tuck it in or she was sure she would kill herself. Annoyed driver yelled at her from rolled down car window of his truck with a dent on the hood with blue cloth stuck above the wheel fluttering in the wind, arm hanging out. Sara didn't spare him even a glance as she hurried down the road to work.

Well, it wasn't really a work. She barely even got paid, only when they had a generous amount in the small chests around the town for people to throw in spare change in any fleeting moments of generosity. It didn't matter to her. Honestly, if she could say for herself, Sara was glad she even had any kind of job at all. Finding work in a Boonsboro was a miracle alone, finding a good paid one was viewed as if Jesus himself came down on Earth and started giving out money.

She pedaled faster as she got on the long road leading to the shelter. Her long brown hair was whipping in her face and she sighed frustrated under her breath. She forgot to put her hair into a ponytail before she got on the bike. She glared at the elastics wrapped around her left wrists, but she was too close to the shelter to stop and tie her hair. She would do it when she'll get there.

When she got to the gate, she hopped of the bike and bent down to retie her shoelaces. Her shoes were pretty; at least that's what she thought. They were dark blue with white dots. Shame is the soles were ripped so she could wear them only when it was nice outside. If it was raining, she could go barefoot as well.

The shelter was a bit on the small side. What could you expect from a town that has 3500 people. But it was enough for the animals that lived here.

It was her mother's family that started the shelter in the town. Now that it was just Sara and her mom that stayed here, they had to take care of it but the people around here were interested in helping as well. The town helped a lot, made donations and hired few people to take care of the animals. They even had a van that someone gave anonymously which they used to drive around to catch stray animals. They had 19 dogs and a lot of cats as well, but those tended not to stay and linger around. They came and went when they pleased, usually just for the food and few rubs.

Sara propped the bike against the wall and walked in, dragging her fingers along the wire fence. She heard the barks getting louder and louder.

"Thank God you are here!" A loud voice came from behind the corner. A messy head popped out and Sara felt a smile spread on her lips.

"Missed me already?" She asked lightly and rounded the corner. Her blue eyes found the source quickly. A man was sprawled on an old chair, his belly poking from flannel shirt that was slowly but surely reaching its limits in elasticity.

"I'm so hungry I think I could eat one of these." He says picking one kitten that laid on his chest about his open mouth, comically snapping his teeth a few times, before nuzzling its tiny face against his cheek.

Sara sighed, one hand on her hip, the other running through her wild hair. Remembering she wanted to tie her hair she stretched her arm in front of her, picking colour of the elastics. She always had way too many of those around her wrist. Picking violet one, she quickly grabbed her hair and tied it around a few times, the elastic leaving angry red indent in her skin.

Absently scratching the red mark, she started walking to the building. The yard was divided into two parts with a fence. The more presentable one, were new potential adoptive families could take a look around the shelter and talk with the shelter's staff and the other bigger part reserved as a playground for the animals.

The dogs were lining up along the fence, their tails wagging happily from side to side at the sight of Sara.

She waved at them. "Hey lovelies. Give a minute and I'll be right with you ok? I just gotta grab Joe something to eat." She told them and entered the building.

The insides were, just as the shelter whole, small. But it had new furniture and even a small vet ambulance reserved for emergencies. They couldn't afford to have a veterinary here all the time, so the local vet Mr. Greer offered himself to come if it was needed. Otherwise the people that worked here took care of the animals, having learned the most basic things and procedures that were simple enough that even a child could learn them.

Sara headed to the kitchenette. She opened the fridge, happy to find it fully stocked. Joe must have gone shopping. She gladly crossed of one thing of her mental list and grabbed his favourite toast.

"You are a lifesaver, I'll tell you." He said as he tore the package and took out the toast. The kittens that were sleeping till now woke up at the smell of the ham and started meowing softly to get his attention.

Sara rolled her eyes and started taking them from his chest and put them into box that was made for them next to Joe. He stood up, free from those little warm bodies and stretched, his back popping in few places.

"Did you take your half for a walk?" Sara asked, sitting next to the box, her hand finding its way to the kittens.

Joe turned around to give her a look. "I even took more than just half for your information. But I left that stupid mountain of a mutt for you, little lady. I swear he has something against me." He said chewing the almost gone toast.

Sara rolled her eyes. "First of all, I am not a little lady. I am 5'9 and if my memory serves me well, I am still an inch taller than you. And second, he is not stupid. He is just allergic to your flannel shirts. He hates them." She said, her eyes resting on the big dog that lay in the corner of the playground in the shadows.

The summer was taking its toll on him even though it barely started. He was a rescue dog, a Leonberger but after one unfortunate accident he was no longer able to serve as good as before, so they took him in. He was a giant among dogs and the heavy coat he was carrying around didn't help him to cool down at all.

Joe smiled at my comment. "How's your mom?" He asked, finishing the toast.

Sara perked up a bit. "Actually, she asked about you." She told him happily. Joe sat back in the chair, surprised with a smile on his face.

"She did? That's nice." He commented, his green eyes twinkling. "What she asked about?" He asked curious.

Sara grimaced a bit. "Well.. " She hesitated and saw as Joe smile was turning into a frown. "She asked if I haven't seen any scratch marks on your arms. She still thinks that you ate the kitten's mother." She finished with a wince.

Joe sighed to himself and ran his hand across his face. "Tell her that she was delicious and that I enjoyed the fight she put up." He told her semi-serious." Where the heck does your mom get those ideas even from? "He asked, shaking his head.

"I would love to know." Sara told him with a sad smile on her face

"Why were you late actually?" He asked suddenly after few minutes of silence between them. "Not that I mind it, you know that I have nothing better to do." He added quickly.

"Yeah.. I'm sorry about that." She apologised although she knew he didn't mean it as an accusation. "I was tried to sort out all the stuff from the school, choosing what to keep and what to throw away, what is pretty much everything now that I am done with school forever." She said bitterly.

"I lost track of time and when I realized what time it was I was already running late and it was a bit after 4 pm. And I forgot to plug the TV out from electricity so I had to turn around when I was already on my way here." She said enjoying the sun's rays, her fingers running through the soft fur. She remembered the feeling of panic and fear at that realization.

"She didn't see anything, did she.." Joe asked worried.

Sara just shook her head. "She didn't have a chance to. I never rode a bike that fast in my know that I got it covered when I am home, so don't worry about that. I am too careful to let it happen. We have the TV or radio on only when we are together and I am careful about what they are broadcasting. They are slowly talking about it less and less now that they are repairing the place but it is going to take time for them to calm down complete and even after that, it will never go away. I usually try to avoid news and keep watching National Geographic instead. She still loves animals you know.." She said softly at the end.

"It's been a while since she has been here." Joe commented, his eyes getting a wishful glint.

Sara smiled happily at her old friend. "So that you could woo her, Romeo? Don't need a father now." She laughed, dusting of her jeans.

Joe kept staring ahead of himself, but Sara noticed the reddening of his cheeks. She was sure he though she can't see it on his dark skin.

After Joe left, Sara went off to take care of animals, give them fresh water and dinner. After feeding the cats and leaving food for those adventurous ones that would return later, she went to feed dogs. They were all gathered on the playground, preferring fresh air, green grass and place to shit freely without dirtying their bunks in the building.

Sara was dragging a bag of dog food, too heavy for her carry in her arms or on her shoulders.

"Butts, butts. Butts..." A croaky voice said. Sara didn't even bother turning around and kept dragging the food to the playground.

"Butts..".. Again.

"Shut up LittleFoot." Sara grumbled at the parrot. He didn't stay in cage. He was free to fly around but he always stayed, repeating the only word he ever learned.

The second she got through the last door, she had muzzles nudging her legs and paws scratching the bag tearing it in few places, accompanied by joyful barks and whines. After she ordered the dogs to stay put and not to move, she filled their bowls and waved her hands at them to go eat.

Something small licked her hand as she was crouching at the bowls, watching so that none of the dogs would steal food from each other. She looked down seeing a small pug. He was really very small. Unfortunately, he was blind so they had to feed him individually. It was easier that way.

"Hey Peanut." Sara said soft, bringing the animal to her chest. The pug sniffed around, wiggling in her arms, licking her face.

"Let's get you something to eat." She said, standing up.

It took about an hour to clean the shelter, half an hour to play with the dogs and then she was ready to take her half on a walk. She went to the hallway, where they had all the collars and leashes. She grabbed 8, though she will use probably just 5. Pax, the Leonberger and Daisy, a Labrador that were both rescue dogs were trained very well. And Peanut would sit in the basket on her bicycle.

Still, having 5 dogs on a leash, while riding bicycle was tricky. Thankfully Pax and Daisy were a duo had had an authority among the other dogs and they usually followed their lead. So unless they got carried away, it should be all fine. She wanted to take them to the small pond, as she always did when it the temperature rose. Joe knew of her habit and did it as well. But he refused to ride on a bicycle because of his knee, so he walked there every time. But Sara was too lazy to walk such a distance.

Riding through the streets, she greeted some people that waved at her. It was really good that they knew her, otherwise she could have problems from letting the dogs run free.

Finally reaching the small field, she let them all run. The pug was breathing loudly in her basket as if he ran all the way here. A small whine at her feet captured her attention. A black poodle sat at her feet, staring at the basket. Sara rolled her eyes at him but couldn't help herself but to smile.

"Peanut," she said to the pug, getting him out of the basket. "Your escort is here." She let him down on the ground, watching as two best friends ran off.

She started cycling again, going in circles around the field, enjoying her time out in the fresh air. The sun was soft on her face, warming her cheeks. She let all the worries escape her head for a while. Her mom was at a knitting club, she visited almost every day, so Sara could forget about all those little things she had to be extra careful when she was around her.

Her daze was interrupted by loud barks and two howls. She snapped her head in the direction of the sound. It came from the small forest that separated the field and the pond. The dogs that were left on the field stopped and darted of.

Lucky and Peanut followed as well, but in the wrong direction initially crossing her bike. Sara swerved the handlebar to the side putting her of balance to avoid hitting them. Her tyre bumped into a rock sending her flying over her bike. She landed awkwardly on her side, her left knee taking the most damage.

It took her a few seconds to realize what happened as she lay on the grass. Her head was spinning. She sat up, patting her hands all over herself to check for an injury. She had a few scraps and what could be expected a huge bruise on her left hip. But her knee was the worst. Her jeans were ripped; the skin scratched deep, small rocks and dirt in the wound. Sara could feel the uncomfortable burning and itching starting. She prodded the cut with her finger, getting rid of small pebbles imbedded in her flesh. Her hair came of the ponytail tumbling around her face, the violet elastic lost in the grass around her.

"Shit." She cursed as the blood flowed freely from her knee, staining her jeans.

Suddenly, a dog barked right into her ear. She turned her head, surprised to see Pax close to her. As soon as he had her attention, he barked again and ran off.

Sara groaned. She ran a hand through her hair, putting it out of her face and tried to stand up. Her knee was protesting, the area already swollen and hard to bend. When she was on her feet, she looked around herself seeing only wheezing Peanut and Lucky waiting for her.

She picked up her bike and started walking in the direction Pax disappeared. She leaned heavily against the bicycle, noting happily that it wasn't damaged.

"Come one boys." She said to the dogs. "Let's see what all the fuss is about."

Ducking from the branches that were threatening to poke her eyes out, she realized it was just few more steps and she would be at the lake.

Manoeuvring her bike from the small forest, she laid it on the rocks under her feet.

She looked up and saw all the dogs waiting for her near tall grass and bushes. She trudged slowly to them, trying to see what they were crowded around.

When she got close enough, Pax barked again, nudging his muzzle into a heavy boot.

"My god.." Sara said softly. She didn't dare to get closer instead choosing to lean over her dogs. The boot led to heavy set of legs covered in black pants with various buckles and zippers and what not. The person had a dark blue coat on, dirty and ripped in some places, reaching their mid thigh. Judging from the broad build, she guessed it was a man. He was laying face down sprawled on the rocks, his right hand as if reaching somewhere, his fingertips barely grazing the water. His hair was dark brown, matted and caked with dirt. Almost like a stray dog's fur. Sara was sure it was long enough to rest comfortably on his shoulder if he would be standing.

"Is he dead?" She asked herself rhetorical question. She leaned even closer, putting her hand on Pax's head for support. Her blue eyes were trained on the man's back, watching carefully for the rise and fall of his chest. When she noticed the distinct pattern confirming that he was breathing, she let out a small breath of relief.

She took a step back from him and patted Pax's head.

"Come on boys. We gotta get back before it gets dark." She said turning from the man. She didn't feel very bad about leaving him there. It was probably just some homeless guy. She had a saviours complex, but only when it came to animals. It was sad, but she realized later in her life that people were just not worth it and didn't deserve it.

With no feeling of heavy guilt troubling her mind she started walking to her bike, motioning the dogs with her hand to follow her. Lucky already passed ahead of her, Peanut following shortly after him, stumbling across the rocks almost falling flat on his face.

"Careful there Peanut. We don't want that face to get any flatter." She joked continuing walking. She heard the small sound of rocks shifting and paws softly hitting the ground, the rest of the dogs following her.

She was almost at her bike when a dog barked. She was around them way too long not to recognize their barks.

"What is it Daisy?" Sara asked, bending to grab her handlebars.

Daisy barked again. Sara looked at her, a bit annoyed.

She was surprised to see her with Pax still near the man. Daisy whined, lowering her head.

"Daisy. Come here." Sara said a bit more sternly. She could barely bend her knee, the cut sending burning sensations to her brain. She wanted to clean it as soon as possible and more importantly get back to the shelter before it gets dark. She still has to pick her mom from the town hall where she has her knitting club and she would not make it in time if Daisy is be stubborn.

Sara is usually very lenient and soft, but when it was enough, it really was enough and all the niceness in her was gone. It always returned after few short moments followed by guilt and shame of how she acted, but she just couldn't help herself in such moments.

But Daisy didn't listen. Sara set her jaw, lifted her eyes to the sky and shook her head. She let breathed out sharply and stomped to her, favouring her right leg.

"I really don't have time for this nonsense." She grumbled under her breath. Daisy, seeing her coming to her, started wagging her tail.

Sara saw it and became even more annoyed. When she got close enough to them, she grabbed their collars and tugged it weakly. "Let's go." She told them.

She would have a chance with Daisy on a good day. But moving Pax if he doesn't want to is just impossible. He weights a shitton. With that being 160 pounds.

She tugged again and lowered her head in defeat.

Pax licked her hand.

She raised her eyes to look at him. "You are not going to make this easier for me, are you?" She asked him. He let out a whine and turned his head away from her to look at the man behind him.

Sara straightened out.

'Well. This is going to take a while.' She thought to herself and looked around, trying to spend the time waiting for her dog to move meaningfully. The pond wasn't small but it as well wasn't big enough to call it a lake. The local's fish here, but seeing as the fishing season hadn't started yet, Sara tried to enjoy the yells-free air around here. The fishermen were never happy when the dogs jumped into the water and started splashing around, startling all the fish. Sometimes the kids would come here and fool around, but mostly just for drinking and stuff. The pond wasn't suitable for swimming as it was full of weed and a few car wrecks that were resting at the bottom.

Pax and Daisy started barking loudly. Sara wanted to tear her hair out.

"What is it?" She asked sharply looking at them with an angry expression on her face.

But that changed the second she saw that they were nudging the man with their muzzle. He was starting to tremble, the shaking getting stronger with every passing second.

"Aw shit." She cursed softly under her breath watching the scene unfold before her eyes.

He was having a seizure. At least Sara though he did. She didn't have any experience with people having them, but the poodle Lucky, Peanut's best friend used to have at least one seizure a week, the main reason he was left at the shelter. She knew what to do when it comes to dogs.. But people? Hardly.

Pax Daisy laid their heavy bodies next to him, providing some sort of cushioning.

Sara walked to the man and sat on the ground next to him. She was scared she would hurt him. She reached with her hands for his right arm tentatively, grasped the coat at his waist and tried to turn him to the side.

"Come on." She said quietly. She was trying to be gentle, but he was too heavy to move. She grasped him stronger and pulled towards her. Having succeeded in turning him, she put her hand on his throat feeling leather material under her fingers. She hooked her fingers behind the hem and pulled, trying to make it looser to help him breathe. The coat that he was wearing was missing a huge chunk of it in the front. It was almost torn in half. Her mind suddenly jumped to the driver that honked at her on the street. He had blue cloth stuck in a crevice above the wheel.

Her eyes widened at the realization. Could it be possible? But he couldn't have survived a crash like that and still crawl here. The lake was quite far away from the road.

Her whole frame was trembling from his shaking. She realized he must be unbelievably strong if she was having trouble with him when he was unconscious.

With her right hand hooked around the shirt or what he was wearing she looked at his face. It was obscured by his hair, preventing her from seeing him. Without even thinking she smoothed his hair from his face with her left hand. Her fingers came away bloody but her eyes found no wound.

His face betrayed feelings of pain, his brows furrowed, forehead creased together. He had his eyes closed together firmly. He had a few days worth of stubble coating his cheeks and she thought she would find him very good looking if she saw him on the streets. He was very beautiful.

She though his lips would be pressed into a hard line, corners turned into a frown. But they were soft and plump, trying to shape some words.

She looked at him curiously but she couldn't hear anything. Intrigued, she leaned her head closer to him, her hair brushing his temple in the process. She squinted in concentration, trying to put the quiet sound he was making into some kind of words.

"...gant. James...Bu...rnes.. 3-2-...7" Sara listened closely but it didn't make any sense to her. The only things she could be sure of that he said was James. Probably his name, but it didn't have to be.

She made a mistake she didn't realize she did. Amidst trying to make breathing easier for him and deciphering what he was trying to say, she forgot to notice that he stopped shivering and now laid like a marble statue under her hands.

It didn't take even a second, it happened so fast. All she remembers is putting her hands on his cheek, opening her mouth to ask him if he was ok and conscious, when his eyes snapped open. She looked into his eyes shocked at the intensity in them. They were icy blue, sending chills to her spine.

Next thing she knew, she was laying on the rocks with a knife pressed to her throat exactly on the place that remembered the feeling of and a hand grasping her wrists together, his heavy body laying on her making it unable to move.

She was so screwed.

OoO

OoO

OoO

Hi! Well, this is awkvard.

I had an idea in my head for a fanfiction and this kind of came out of it. So, yeah... I just would really like to know if it is even worth continuing. I have a few things in mind for this story, but I am not sure if You even like it, so please let me know. Can I just say that that I love Bucky?

Thanks


	2. Chapter 2

"Who are you?" He asked in an emotionless voice, the blade of the knife digging deeper into the soft skin of her neck. She wondered for while how he even managed to get a knife so quickly into his hand.

"I'm sorry. I just.. I really am.." She said, her words meddling together unable to say a normal sentence.

"What did you do to me?" His eyes held hers in a trance. She just couldn't look away, no matter how hard she tried to. They were brilliant blue but void of emotion, staring into hers without blinking.

"You were having a seizure, I think. And we only tried to help you I swear. We already found y-" Her words were cut of by his left hand grabbing her throat. His hand was unbelievably cold and it didn't feel like flesh at all. She widened her eyes and arched her head to loosen his grip.

The man above her looked around himself, his eyes returning back to her again. "Who else is here?" He asked harshly.

She bugged her eyes out. "What?" She asked him. There was no one else.

He tightened his grip on her neck. "Do not lie to me." He told her without any underlying emotions behind the words but she still felt as if they cut into her skin.

She let out a choked breath. He was not far from crushing her windpipe. Sara tried wiggling around to break his hold on her but it was useless. He was way too heavy and the ease with which he was holding her wrists together told her it wasn't even worth it to try to overpower him. Sara felt her eyes watering, her chest trying to take in much needed air.

Growls could be heard around them suddenly. It was as if like everything disappeared from her head for a while and only now she remembered her dogs were still there.

The man realized as well that they really were not alone. In a flash he was behind her back, knife pressed against her throat once again, hand holding her wrists disabling her from moving. She almost felt small relief in feeling the blade against her throat taking in deep breaths, though the sensation was almost like disconnected line as the blade pressed against the scar tissue.

Sara looked in front of herself. Pax was standing on all fours, growling at him, his fur rising. The other dogs were behind him, all of them in a defensive stance but prepared to attack. Even the tiny blind Peanut was there with them, though he was facing the wrong direction.

She felt her heart soften at the sight of them. "Please. Don't hurt them." She pleaded the man, her eyes watching fondly her dogs. She felt the blade slide down her throat before returning to its place.

"Just let them go." She asked of him in a small voice, worried that she might anger him.

The knife slid down again, now resting at the hollow of her throat, the touch of the metal so soft that she could barely feel it at all.

Daisy, the only dog that didn't look ready to defend her, what Sara was sure would blame on her jokingly later, took a few cautious steps forward, her paws making the smallest of sound against the rocks as they were shifting under her weight. She paused, her warm brown eyes resting at them man behind Sara. She lowered her head and let out a soft whine, then came closer to them.

Sara could feel the dog's breath on her face as Daisy brought her muzzle closer and closer. She could feel the blade going up and down and she realized that Daisy was nudging the mans hand with her nose.

The man behind her let out a choked breath, hand wrapped around her wrists slowly loosening it's grip, his fingers shaking slightly.

"I'm.. I am sorry." The man said. Sara would have almost thought that someone else was talking. His voice was completely different. It was confused and lost. Like a little boy.

Daisy started licking the mans hand and the knife fell from his limp hand. He started shivering again, leaning against Sara. She felt his wide chest against her back, finding out concerned that she could already feel her skin heating up. He must have a fever, a really bad one.

Sara scrambled away from the man, hiding behind Pax grasping his fur between her fingers. The man slumped forward, hands splayed on the rocks just in time to prevent him from falling. Just then did Sara notice the metal gleam coming from his left hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

Could it be possible that he had something to do with what happened on Washington? She barely knew all the information, only what she heard from Joe and others at the shelter. Some parts of the city were in ruins, with some huge planes falling down from the sky. People were just now trying to get their wits together after this catastrophe, repairs slowly taking place. She felt a small pang of sadness. She wanted to visit the city for so long, having never been there. But now she didn't feel very safe going there.

The man was taking deep breaths, his whole body violently shuddering. Hair was falling into his face, but she could see that he had his face scrunched up in pain again.

She backed away and slowly stood up, her knee screaming in protest. Blood was already drying around the edges, but the cut was still bleeding.

She felt the dogs coming to her, their wagging tails hitting her back softly, happy that she was ok. Even Pax trotted towards her, his thick coat swaying in the air.

Only Daisy stayed near the man, sitting next to him with her muzzle resting near the metal hand. She was looking at Sara with big eyes, pleading with her.

Sara shook her head. "Don't even think about it." She told her, receiving a small sad whine from her.

"NO. I said no." She said failing at making her voice strong and unrelenting.

She found herself once in this kind of situation already and let's just say that it didn't end up good. From that moment on, she resolved herself to only saving animals. She knew that those would never lie to her or betray her.

She wasn't in the mood to drag that man to the shelter and take care of him or even call an ambulance. Sara didn't want to be judgemental, but shivering wasn't exactly a very good sign. He could be an addict and suffering from withdrawals. That was the last thing she would need now in her life. She wouldn't even know what to do with him after taking care of him. Would she tell him just to leave or try to help him get his life back? She doesn't know how to. She barely leads a normal life know. Throwing in someone clearly lost, metaphorically and literally probably, was going to mess her up even more.

Sara realized she was just trying make up some reasonable excuse to leave the man here. She could feel the determination to walk away crumbling.

She started shaking her head. "Are you kidding me?" She said quietly, her voice angry and defeated at having lost an inner battle with herself. She raised her head to look at the man.

He hadn't moved from his spot, his hands gripping the rocks tightly. She noted horrified, that the stoned under his left... metal.. hand had cracks in them that weren't there before at all, but Daisy hadn't moved her muzzle at all. She occasionally nudged him with her nose or tentatively tried to lick him.

Sara closed her eyes in frustration. The sun was almost setting, the sky taking on a darker shade. She has to decide soon, her mom would be waiting for her to pick her up in about two hours.

She raised herself on her legs and started walking towards the man. Daisy started wagging her tail seeing her coming closer.

"You stupid mutt." She told her, her voice a bit angry. She bent towards his slumped frame and held out her hand. No matter how weak he must have been, he still apparently had enough power to slap her hand away.

"I don't need your help." He grumbled among taking wheezing breaths.

Sara felt a spark of annoyance in her. "Look. I don't have to do this. But I am willing to help you and I will whether you like it or not. You can cooperate and we will get back faster or you can be stubborn and I can guarantee you that if I will have to, I will drag you by your hand by myself." She told him angrily and grabbed his shoulders and tried to hoist him up.

He followed her movements shortly, a grunt leaving his lips, his defiance visible in his frame. After he stood up, she realized he was half a head taller than her. Seeing the mass of his body, she realized that she was going to have trouble getting him to the shelter without any help. But she didn't have her phone on her and she didn't want to go from house to house asking for help.

"Pax." She said the dog's name quietly. "Come here."

The leonberger walked to her, bumping his head against her rib cage. She put the man's arm around her shoulders and looped her arm around his waist. She felt him tense up at the contact the second she touched him.

"Calm down. I don't bite." She told him. Sara could have been nicer, that much she knew. But she was a bit angry at herself for helping him even though he had a knife at her throat. Not one of her brightest moments, she thought to herself with a wince.

She showed Pax with her hand to go on his other side. "Put you hand on his back and lean on him. He is strong enough." She instructed the man, but he left his left arm hanging by his side, blue eyes staring ahead of himself.

"As you wish." She muttered under her breath and started making small steps forward. His added weight made it almost unable to put any pressure on her knee so it she walked very slowly. But he was even worse off. He barely made a step, before his knees buckled. Thankfully she had a firm grasp on his waist so he didn't fall.

Walking past her bike, she ordered Daisy to take the leashes with her. She kept her eye out on Peanut, hoping he would not wander off. Her bicycle will have to wait till tomorrow morning.

She looked at them man from the corner of her eye and noticed his metal fingers buried deep in Pax's coat.

Walking back to the shelter was a nightmare. It felt as if with every passing step, man's weight was getting heavier and heavier. They had to take a longer path to the shelter as well. She didn't want anyone to see them. They would think she had gone mad doing this thing again. And she wanted to keep the dogs away from roads, worried that now as they were roaming freely around them they could wander of and get hit by a car.

A single word wasn't exchanged between them. She wasn't in the mood to talk, with her knee and hip hurting, sweaty from walking such a long distance.

She shut the door quietly after herself leaning against it. She closed her eyes and let out a long tired sigh. She put the dogs in their cages after cleaning them and feeding the cats again. She locked the door leading to them, so no one would get to them.

She tried sliding her left leg against the door higher, checking the state of her knee. She couldn't even bend it at all.

Sara opened her eyes as her ears picked up a sound of shuffling. The man stood in the room though he was surrounded by chairs and a comfy sofa. When she was looking at him, she realized how he just didn't fit in. He was too big, too tall in the room. His back was ramrod straight, his muscles coiled and ready to spring into action, but his whole frame screamed uncertainty and aggression. His face was set in an emotionless mask, his blue eyes watching her every move. He was clashing with the caramel colored paint on the walls and orange sofas.

She walked around him, his body tensing with every inch she made. She made her way into the small ambulance, taking a first aid kit from under the sink.

He didn't move at all when she returned into the room. She hopped on a counter, stretching her left leg in front of her, grimacing as the sensitive skin around the scratch folded. She reached for the brown glass bottle of hydrogen peroxide. As she was unscrewing the lid, she was mentally preparing herself for the pain that was going to come.

She put a napkin under her knee, set her jaw and poured the liquid on the injury.

The first few seconds were almost soothing, but then the burning started.

"Shit shit shit." She cursed quietly as tears sprung into her eyes. The injury was now foaming up as the peroxide was mixing the the blood and dirt. She once read that you were supposed to apply the solution just on the area around the injury but this was the way they were used to doing it in her family.

"I actually have that because of you." She said into the quietness of the room. Sara heard him shift slightly at her words.

"The dogs went crazy went Pax found you and Peanut and Lucky ran right across my way, so I fell. That was a long time ago since that happened. So thanks, kind of, for keeping the memory that bikes can be dangerous fresh in my mind." She said, lifting her eyes from her knee.

He was still watching her, but instead of the mask he had on his face, few signs of confusion were visible.

"Daisy seemed pretty taken up with you. Maybe she's got a crush." Sara rambled jokingly, dabbing at the cut with a wet napkins.

At she smallest incline of his head she told him "The Labrador with half of her ear missing. The one that stayed with you." She explained to him.

Satisfied with the state of her knee she put a band aid over it and jumped from the counter. The man seemed startled by her movements, flinching from the sudden motion. The back of his legs bumped into the back of the sofa, his felt metal hand finding it's way on the soft material.

"Look.." Sara said, hesitating slightly.

"I want to help you. I really do. Now I am sure of it. But let me ask you of one thing." She told him, shortening the distance between them to really send the message across.

His blue eyes were pining her to the ground and she didn't dare to move any closer. "Don't make me regret this. I understand that you had a rough time.. I try to, at least. But please you try to understand that I am taking a huge risk by helping you. So don't do anything stupid please. I trust you and I need you to trust me, okay? " She begged him, her eyes searching for any sign of agreement on his face.

He gave her a small nod, his chair brushing his chin as he did so. When Sara saw it, her shoulders visibly relaxed and gave him a small smile, though she would not put her hand in fire for that nod. It kind of seemed like an automatic reaction rather than a heartfelt promise to trust each other.

"You can stay here for a few days. There is a small bathroom right near the kitchen. We don't have any beds here, but the couches are better than my bed. Joe usually keeps his clothes around here for a change, so you can use those if you want. If you are hungry, eat anything you want from the fridge. To be honest, you don't look very good. I'll stay here tonight to keep an eye out on you. I don't want you to get a seizure when you are alone." She told him as she cleaned after herself.

As Sara was on her way out, she stopped at the door and turned around to look at him. She wanted to ask him something, but froze at sight of his metal arm with a red star in the shoulder gleaming in the soft yellow light coming from a lamp. His coat was pooled around his feet, his next destination the bin.

She would not have mistaken him for a homeless man now. He looked terrifying, his clothes giving him an aura of something dark and was the coat that saved him, she decided. No way in hell she would approach someone looking like him.

She gulped dryly finally raising her eyes to meet his. He almost looked at her expectantly, waiting for a scream or a horrified yell, fingers itching to dial 911. Sara tried to keep her cool, voice calm, though her heart was beating like a bell in her chest, cold sweat breaking out on her neck. "I was just wondering... How should I call you?" She asked him averting her eyes from the metal gleam.

A few way too long seconds passed between them until he finally answered. "James. You can call me James." He told her, his voice sounding confused and a bit unsure, as if he forgot his name.

"I'm Sara. With to H. Just S-A-R-A." She was so surprised at how much he said that she let those words slip past her lips before she could stop herself. She immediately wanted to smack herself in the face. She was so used to saying that when introducing herself that it came naturally.

"Well... I have to go already. My mom is waiting for me and I don't want to be late. I'll be back shortly. " She said and opened the door, shaking her head at the nonsense that was spewing from her mouth without looking back.

/

"Hey mom." She greeted her mother.

Sara was panting, her face was flushed. She was hurrying to the town hall, because her bike was forgotten near the lake. She thanked her ancestors for choosing this small town, where getting from one end to the other took half an hour of moderate walking.

"Hi sweetie." He mom greeted her back. Sara felt herself smile at her. Even at her older age, she looked every bit of a lady. Not a day went by without her wearing anything different other than dress, though they were always accompanied by a black leather shoulder bag. Not that she needed it for anything important. She never took anything else but her keys, napkins and her knitting needles. Even at times when she wasn't supposed to go to her club. Sara says it is her mom's club club, because there are only two other ladies visiting regularly and Joe sometimes, though not as often as he used to in the past now that her mom set her sight on him and was watching his moves like a hawk.

Two years ago after what happened, her mom changed. Well, it was all fine for few days, but after that, her mom started suspecting everything and everyone, making accusation and so on. When it became unbearable she went to a doctor and got diagnosed with paranoid personality disorder.

When she became aware of what was happening to her, she tried to pretend like she doesn't have it. Then she tried to fight it with all of herself and now she got used to it and makes fun out of it, though you can spot times when the disorder just takes over no matter what.

Sara got used to walking her home from the club. It's not that she was worried that her mother might kill someone with her needles on a spur of a moment , though that thought may have crossed her mind sometimes, but she didn't want her to feel judged by other people. When the local folks found out about it, and belive me they always find out everything with time, they gave her a looks when they thought she wasn't looking. She wasn't, but she knew it and it was hurting her inside. That's where Sara stepped in. She made it her daily mission to greet them with a load holler or wave at them obnoxiously until they have learned from their mistakes and stopped doing it.

She left her mom at home with an excuse that Lucky wasn't feeling very well when they were on a walk and that she wanted to watch him for the night. Given her mom's personality, she would be expecting a thousand probing questions, but none came. The sad truth is that Sara used this excuse so often to get at least one time a week out of the house that they both started to believe it.

/

The sky was dark by the time she got back to the shelter. It was quiet all around, only few crickets breaking the monotone. The air was a bit chilly at night, though the day temperatures were higher than normal for this time of the year.

She didn't find him when she got to the main room. She looked around quickly, a small seed of regret planting itself but was quickly diminished when she noticed a soft glow coming from under the door leading to the bathroom. She couldn't hear the water running, so she assumed that he was already done with the shower as she told him when she was leaving.

Singing to herself some silly song stuck in her mind during the walk here under her breath, she walked to the counter and reached for the box with office supplies. She came back with a sheet of paper, few pens and a pair of scissors.

When he finally opened the door, she was in a middle of bringing slice of bread covered in butter and strawberry marmalade into her mouth she made for herslef while waiting for him. She didn't norice any cutlery used in the sink indicating that he would have eaten something. She really hoped that he did, she didn't want to force fim into it. Sara just hoped that he was a really tidy person and put everything back after using it.

She was suddenly glad she hadn't taken the bite, as she almost choked herself on air alone.

He wasn't wearing a shirt.

As in no garment covering his upper body.

Like.. at all.

Her immediate reaction was blushing. Warmness sneaking itself into her cheeks over her cheekbones. It was a while, like a week-and-a-half-while when she was drooling over Brad Pitt in Troy when it was on a rerun, since she saw a man half-naked, looking as good as he did, because _oh my_ he was flipping ripped.

But it only took her eyes a fraction of a second when she noticed the numerous scars littering his skin, some less noticeable that she would notice only if they were pointed out, some like a trap for her eyes, screaming at her to look at them. The worst set of them being at his left shoulder, where it was... connected to his metal hand.

A hand that was grasping a green material tightly in it's fingers.

Then Sara realized that a heavy tension filled silenced settled over them. She raised her eyes to meet his. She couldn't read anything from them. Not even the tiniest sliver of emotion. His hair was wet, tousled around his face in wet strands, the water in them pulling them down, the ends brushing against his collarbone.

Gathering her wits, she forced herself to swallow and talk, though her voice came of strangely pitched. "So.. ehm... it's nice that you.. you took a shower..So..."

She made her eyes to stay at his. She thought that it must have been painstakingly obvious that she was trying really hard to just look into them and not at the scars.

"So I thought maybe we could try to write something..." She trailed off into silence when Sara realized that he was looking at her impassively again.

"It doesn't fit." He said quietly and Sara was once again startled by how his voice didn't match his body.

She forcefully blinked at him, forbidding herself to let her eyes fall on his chest and left arm again. "I can see that. I'll get you a bigger one tomorrow."

He nodded and simply let the fabric fall down on the floor at his feet, sitting at the edge of the other sofa. Sara eyed the shirt, her eyes landing next on the ripped jacket few feet away from him, sensing a pattern here. Not so tidy after all, it seems.

He sat so close to the corner that she was worried he might fall of.

James looked like he didn't belong.

He still had his spine uncomfortably straightened, his hands lying limp at his thighs like he didn't know where to put them. Thought his body looked like made of steel, untelling, cold and strong, even his jaw and brow looked unyielding and unforgiving, Sara watched with a small smile on her face that it was his eyes and mouth that told her the most.

Albeit it was true that his lips were, since she saw him first, constantly turned into a frown, she could see small quivers on his lips. As if they were finding their purpose once again. They reminded her of those of a small child. Timid, lost, the soft pink flesh ready to form words calling for help, a small tremble from fear of the unknown, uncertain whether they should turn up or down.

His eyes were more were restrained, always focusing their whole attention at one subject at time, although you just knew that he was seeing all around him anyway. But there were times when his focus and guard would slip away and you could see _him_.

Sara sighed and put the pen, paper and scissors on a table in front of her, leaving the task of trying to find out as much as possible to help him for tomorrow. He hadn't told her a single thing, but she was sure that his distrust level was way of the charts and that it was very improbable that he would just start spilling everything the moment she would open her mouth.

After she finished the bread at a record time, she laid on the sofa, dragging a blanket up to her chin, tucking the loose edges around her whole frame, securing it so it would not leave any flesh out in the open, then smoothing the cover, her hand picking on crumbs.

She could have asked him if he had eaten, if he wasn't hurting anywhere or if he was feeling well. But in the back of her mind, she felt that he would just find those questioning prying and too nosy, so she kept her mouth shut. And let's face it. Anyone that has a freaking metal arm can't be really considered normal. Sara knew that there were a number of fancy prosthetics in the world, as Joe was flipping through magazines with them all the time complaining that they didn't have such fancy ones when he needed it, but she would bet on it that they would look like klapaucius to motherlode if compared to his arm. If you catch her drift.

Settling on the sofa for the night, her hair already twisting and tangling around her face she looked at him.

Surprise, surprise.

He was looking at her. But his shoulders were no longer strong and ready to punch anyone, they were slightly hunched forward. He looked different.

"James?" She asked him quietly, somehow feeling like it would be wrong to talk in a loud voice. Though Sara was aware he was looking at her, she noticed how it took him a while to really react to his name. How his eyes were just now truly looking at her. As if she was the default option of what to look at, like everything else was _bad, bad, bad_ and she was right.

"I just wanted to.." She was unsure about how to voice herself.

She knew very well she had to say something like that. For God's sake, she was going to sleep in the same room like him, yet she knew just his first name and now was even doubting it was his actual name, given his reaction. Or rather lack of it. But she though they should give themselves some kind of a ground to agree on, to have at least something to work on.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath in preparation.

"I trust you," she opened her eyes and looked into his bright blue ones; "You trust me. Right?"

He didn't throw his arms around her, he didn't cry from happiness. He still sat unmoving, so awkward and so not fitting on the orange couch. But his mouth was curved upwards, the angle of his lips so small that she could barely measure it with a protractor to be deemed a legal angel and his eyes screaming at her in an unknown language, so loud and so quiet, reciting whole verses longer than herself and repeating just one word again and again. She didn't know and yet she knew.

She let herself melt into the covers and close her eyes, letting her voice carry through the room.

"Can you please leave the light on? I don't like to sleep in the dark."

OoO

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Hi hi!

This week I started working at local newspaper agency so with that in mind I think I will be updating like once a week? I think? Yeah.. probably.

About Bucky. I'm still trying to decide permanently on how to portray him. I'm not 100 percent sure, but I have an image in mind so let me know what you think of my version of him.

I'm sorry for any mistakes that I may have made in this chapter or in the story in general. Taking into account that english isn't my first language and that today I am really tired from working 10 hours straight, I would like to apologise for any typos or just silly mistakes.

Just a question if you are willing to answer? How do you feel about Sara? And Bucky? And the story in general?

A really, _really_ big Thank You goes to anyone who read the story, favorited it or even found the time to review. Thank You so very much :)


	3. Chapter 3

He kept walking.

He knew that sneaking on a truck would be faster, but with the roads in chaos and police men everywhere, people running around scared like chickens without heads, it would just make his escape harder. So he walked, foot by foot, his pace quick and unrelenting. Walking was his only though in his mind that he was focusing on. The only one he allowed himself to focus on.

He made himself not to feel the wetness of his suit, how his hair was dripping on the ground. He didn't feel the cold of late spring evening surrounding him. And he forced himself not to think about the man after whom he jumped of the falling ship and saved him.

The Winter Soldier failed his mission.

It wasn't the first time it happened as he knew from what he gathered from his commander. After the usual praise and glory and after putting him in his place of their greatest pawn, sometimes words of reprimand would follow. Both sides knew that they wiped crucial and sensitive memories, but whatever they wished stayed and they wanted these words to linger, grow roots, strengthening his ties to Hydra to blinding loyalty and making him wish to fulfil every demand and mission given to him. No matter what they asked, it was done, no questions asked.

Eager to listen, ready to execute. He was no better than a dog, every step ruled by his master.

The Soldier never bothered to stop and think about what he was doing. He wasn't meant to. In his eyes, Hydra was the truth and the only right in the world. But this was the first time he knew that he may have done the right thing.

His world, however small and limited, was shaken in it foundations. Hydra, the only things he ever knew was suddenly in a position of at least a suspect if not an enemy. The Soldier, who was always ahead ten, twenty steps could only count on the steps he was making right now leading nowhere.

He kept walking, for once without a specific goal in his mind. Subconsciously he wanted to turn around, go back. But he knew better than to trust the voice, not his, inside his head.

And so the Soldier walked.

He never made stops, even when his pace was slowing down. When he started to feel strange pulling in his abdomen, at first confused at the feeling, but then he recognized that was what hunger used to feel like, as he was never awake long enough to feel it, he hoped he made the right decision.

He stayed clear of towns and homes and people, though he once got close enough to steal a coat hanging from a washing line.

He chose the blue one. He didn't know why.

There was screaming.

So _so_ much of it.

Voices. Never quieting.

He didn't know which one was his.

.

.

.

And so he was here, sitting on orange sofa, quiet as the night. He didn't touch the lamp beside the sofa and let it shine as the girl wished, just kept sitting without moving a muscle.

The girl, Sara, stirred and made a small sound.

The Soldier kept looking at her. Within one second as he first saw her, he determined that she wasn't a threat. Even if she wanted to hurt him, she wouldn't be able to. He just couldn't understand why she was doing this. She may have told him she had a saviour's complex, but it just didn't make sense. He threatened her, didn't tell her anything valuable to make her trust him. Nothing.

She was the most stupid girl he ever met.

He told her his name, although it felt more like a really low quality sticker that was uncomfortable and would not stay in place. He told her that just because it seems familiar. He didn't feel like James at all. Bu the wasn't a the Winter Soldier anymore.

He didn't have a name.

He stood up, his muscles unfamiliar with so much time spent doing nothing. He started walking around the room. His bare feet were touching the cold floor. He had to keep himself from flinching and had to force his muscles to relax, because there was only one occasion he had to be without any shoes. And those were times he didn't like.

He kept prowling around like a cat, but he didn't touch anything. It was mostly a habit from missions to try not to leave any trace of him behind, though he was often careless enough to do it. A part of it was from wondering if he could touch anything at all.

He was the brain of every mission. He created strategies, he was the one who had perfected and mapped out every single part of it. Out on a field, he was the one in control. Any other time, he lived by a schedule dictated by the commander, by rules of what to do, what to say or better not to say at all, where to look, how many breaths to take...

The Soldier almost felt lost.

Sara mumbled something again. He wondered if she was having nightmare.

Walking to a locked door near a counter, the one the girl locked before falling asleep, he picked up a pen lying on a table. It took him barely a second to open the locked door.

.

.

.

Sara opened her eyes, waking up to a muffled sound of quiet pounding. Her vision was dim, her eyes heavy with sleep. After recognizing the thumping, she felt her muscles protesting at the idea of working and standing up.

Not having another choice, she stood up, her soles tingling with the cold that seeped from the floor. She trudged slowly to a door on her right, her eyes half open, mouth pouty from having been asleep a while ago. She could barely see the outline of the furniture that lined her path to the door, but it wasn't the dead of the night anymore. Without risking a glance at a clock, she deduced that it should be something after five in the morning. She groped for the handle, her hand falling on the wooden surface.

Closing her eyes, she opened the door, her ears taking in the soft creaking of hinges, her brain writing down to tell Joe to oil them. With thumping growing louder, she smacked her other hand against the wall of the room, hoping it would hit the light at a first try.

Sara felt her pupils shrinking in size at the light blaring from behind her eyelids. She made a grimace and blinked a few times in exaggerated motion.

Her heart skipped a beat at seeing a dark outline of a body sitting on the floor.

She gripped the handle in her hand and gulped dryly, her heart starting to beat fast with cold sweat breaking out on her back.

Sara was definitely awake now.

She took a deep breath, her torso shaking with soft tremors.

She cursed herself as she felt her eyes beginning to moisten. She always got teary eyed when she got scared. She didn't scream, strangely lacking that stereotypical reaction. She just stared and cried and usually managed to freak out the other person in the process too.

"Hey.." Damn.. Her voice shook a little. "Didn't expect seeing you here." She said and walked closer to a cage where Peanut was head-butting his door. It was cushioned after he started asking for a walk this way whenever she stayed for the night.

James was sitting on the floor with his back leaning against a cage door where Daisy slept with her head close to him. He was still just in sweatpants, but it seemed like the cold didn't have any effect on him. Sara risked a glance at him and was surprised to find that he was staring blankly ahead of him, lost in thought.

Reaching over to pick Peanut in her arms, she said; "I'm going to let him out on the playground. You wanna go with me?" She asked him, silently hoping he would agree and maybe she would get him to talk at least a bit.

Hearing no answer, she looked at him with squirming pug in her arms. "James?" She called his name softly, her invitation unheard.

At the sound of his name, he looked into her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. "I thought maybe you wanted to go with me and Peanut on the playground? He needs to go out. So if you want..." She trailed off averting her eyes from his. It felt strangely overwhelming to have his whole attention on her. Sara patted the pug on his head to calm him down.

James set his jaw and stood up, slowly like an old man with weary bones. It was unfitting to see a man like him to have this kind of body language. Everything about him was disagreeing with each other.

Taking that as a cue for his version of 'yes', she went through the other door on the other side of the room, leading to the playground.

The air outside was very fresh and chilly, but it was a good kind of chilly. The one that made you want to stay outside as long as you can until you until the reasonable side of your brain won over and made you got back inside. The sun had not risen yet, but the first rays could be visible over the horizon. It must have been more than just 5 in the morning.

Sara let Peanut down on the floor, the dog running of the second his paws touched the grass. She went back to the wall of the shelter, sliding down the length of it until her butt sat on the hard stone path that went around the building.

She started straight ahead, wishfully thinking that James would understand it as an invitation to sit down next to her.

Actually, she didn't even hear him walking after her. Intrigued, she turned her head to look for him. She immediately spotted him standing in the doorway, his frame blocking the light coming from inside.

She patted the stone floor next to her. "Sit down if you want. He likes to wander around." Sara told him, hoping she was offering him a helping hand this way. She wondered if he had any sort of trouble with being outside or maybe he just thought he should not sit next to her, but her thinking was cut short when he sat his heavy body next to her, though in a considerable distance away from her. She could reach her right arm out and she wouldn't be able to even brush her fingertips against his arm.

In any other occasion, it could have been nice to sit outside at the dawn of a new day, watching the sky changing color quietly, but not now.

"So..." She said breaking the silence between them. Sara wasn't looking at him, worried that if she would she would have lost her courage, but she saw in her peripheral vision that he shifted slightly, like he was bearing himself for what she has to say.

She took a deep breath and set her shoulders. "Okay. I'm going to say it at once. Just let me say something before I start, that everything I said till now still stands and that I am not taking anything back. We're still cool. But I would really like to know something about you, what you are willing to tell." She said, explaining further; "I am not asking you to fill out some forms and to tell me your deepest secrets. I am not a therapy expert, but I am going to try to help you at the best of my knowledge. So I would be really glad if you would say something."

Sara finished with a wince.

Well, that could have gone better.

A lot better. But circling around it would not help her, so saying it out straight was probably the best option. She just prayed that she didn't screw up the moment she opened her mouth.

After a minute of silence, she sighed and turned around in her place to face him. So it seems she has to go around it other way.

"Okay. I see that wasn't the best thing I could come up with." She told him, realizing that she was going to have to look at him, into his eyes and not to ogle his chest. Thankfully, his face was really nice looking, so she won't have a problem with it.

"I started off the wrong way. I mean you don't know me right? So I am going to tell you something about myself." It was harder than she thought. But as he now shifted his blue gaze at her, she found herself unable to look away.

"I introduce myself as Sara, with no h's, because it was on a talk show once and I am obnoxious sometimes like that. I am 19 and I have lived here all my life. I live with my mom, we have no other family here. I barely finished high school, but it's done, so thank God for that. And I... Hmm.. What more about me.." She wondered out loud. It was quite pathetic that she didn't know what to say about herself.

She watched his face carefully as she was telling him about herself, but came up fruitless. He had a never changing expression on his face and she couldn't quite tell whether it was a good one or a bad one.

"I hate olives. I try to act like I like them, because that's what adult people do, right? I chew them, but spit them away the second no one is looking at me. I actually had to go a whole evening with an olive in my mou-"

"You said you trust me." He stated out of the blue, his eyes looking at her, searching for a confirmation. His jaw was still set, but it looked like he was starting to loosen up, letting the character he had on to fade away.

Sara answered without a hesitation. "Yes." She might have said it too quickly, but it felt like an automatic answer. She might not trust him fully, she was still at least partially sane, but it felt natural to say it. And it would be really weird and awkward to linger or to say no. She freaking slept with him in the room, so it might have been a bit late to say she doesn't trust him now.

She was staring into his face expectantly, almost waiting for an onslaught of family history, favourite pastime and which teacher he liked the most. But she got nothing.

He didn't even change his expression a little bit.

Sara would now gladly accept a possibility to sigh in disappointment, but that would not go well.

On with the story then.

"So I had that olive in my mouth. I had to fake chewing it and I accidentally bit it once and it exploded in my mouth and it was the most disgusting thing I ever ate. Imagine the torture of having it in your mouth for the whole evening. Just because my grandma was in town and she is all posh and very upscale and likes to parade around and forces me to eat some every time, being all subtle in pushing the plate towards me. I bet she knows I hate them. That old co-".

"I don't remember."

Sara was in the middle of riling herself up over her grandma. She was really into it so excuse her for leaving her mouth open as she stared at him, shocked that he said something.

Now it was his turn to look at her expectantly, hesitation pouring of him in waves. James had his body fractionally angled towards her, his blue eyes wide and hopeful of acceptance.

"Okay." Sara said dumbly, her mind void of how to react acceptable way.

"What do you not remember?" She asked him.

"Everything. " He told her, his voice grating her ears. It sounded unsure but at the same time resolved and like it hasn't been used a lot.

Sara frowned. "But you said your name was James."

"I answered your question about how you can call me. Not what my name is." He told her. It was like with every words he said, his face and his whole posture changed more and more. Sara would not be able to describe how it changed even if her life depended on it. It was just different. _Good _different.

"And is there something you remember?" She asked him, probing for more information.

"I am.. was a soldier." He said, correcting himself in the middle.

Sara decided that the hair falling into his eyes was distracting.

"Is that... Is that how you got the arm?" She asked in a small voice, hunching over, her arms hugging her knees. The cold was starting to get to her, but James didn't seem to be affected by it at all.

That question was a deal-breaker. It couldn't be avoided. Sara wasn't going to throw him out if he said yes. It didn't really matter how he got it. But when you see someone with a metal arm like that, you don't act like it's common thing around like braces. She was certain that it was a very sensitive area for him. Joe got irritated when little kids would ask him about his knee and it was just scarred and he had a limp. But having a metal arm with a red star on a shoulder was a lot more noticeable than just a bad knee.

"Yes."

"Oh. Okay."

Sara now felt like it was allowed now to look at it. The sky was getting lighter and lighter and the early sun was reflecting against the metal plates. She wanted to run her finger along the whole length of it just to see what it would feel like, but that would be just over stepping boundaries so she kept her arms around her knees, tightening them.

"So you don't remember like anything. Like, at all."

"No."

"And you don't even know if you like or hate olives?"

"No."

Sara wondered if he was running out of how word limit for the time being with those short answers.

"Well, we have the whole day to find out if you're up to it."

OoO

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Sorry about the olives people, I don't really like them.

Well, what do you think? Did I get Bucky right? It was really hard to write him, that's why I kept postponing writing this chapter. And I may have started writing new story, again from MCU, but this time from Avengers. I'm not sure yet when and how and what, but I am pretty sure that Bucky is going to be there as well. So check it out and let me know if you want to continue writing it.

Just off topic, Sims made me want to finish all my stories, crazy right?

I don't mean to sound desperate (which I am _so_ am) for reviews, but if you can spare a few seconds stabbing at the keyboard to write something? Yes? No?

Just for the records, I realized that I have not made any disclaimer so here it is: I don't own anything from Marvel. But bet your sweet ass that I wish I would.

Thank You :).


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